The Dark Union of Insensate Dust
by Amrun
Summary: The absent are the dead --- for they are cold, And ne'er can be what once we did behold; And they are changed, and cheerless, --- or if yet The unforgotten do not all forget. - Lord Byron. Complete. Challenge fic WINNER!


Author's Note: Oh, how I love to procastinate from my NaNoWriMo project! This is my response to word challenge #3 over at the kakasaku lj community at http : // community . livejournal . com / kakasaku / , minus the spaces. Head over there to vote after the 21st! We are a bunch of pretty cool gals if I do say so myself.

The prompt is "beaches". Word constraint: between 800 and 1000. This closes in at 999 without the epigraph, 1,146 with epigraph.

As usual, I used this as a vehicle for some literary experimentation, blah blah blah. By nature of the challenge, it is kakasaku, but I chose not to go the explicit route in this story. If you choose to read it as simply a Team Seven comradeship fic, you may do so. I think I prefer it that way myself, actually.

WARNING: CHARACTER DEATH.

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_What is this death? --- a quiet of the heart?_

_The whole of that of which we are a part?_

_For life is but a vision --- what I see_

_Of all which lives alone is life to me,_

_And being so --- the absent are the dead,_

_Who haunt us from tranquility, and spread_

_A dreary shroud around us, and invest_

_With sad remembrances our hours of rest._

_The absent are the dead --- for they are cold,_

_And ne'er can be what once we did behold;_

_And they are changed, and cheerless, --- or if yet_

_The unforgotten do not all forget._

_Since thus divided --- equal must it be_

_If the deep barrier be of earth, or sea;_

_It may be both --- but one day end it must_

_In the dark union of insensate dust._

-- A fragment from Lord Byron's journal, 1816

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Sakura remembered the first time she'd seen a beach. It had been this beach, in fact, during her first mission away from Konoha. It had been exciting and new, finally having real sensations to associate with words like "ocean".

And for one glorious day, they'd had time to play. Tsunami had lent her a bathing suit, and though it was embarrassingly baggy in all the wrong places, for once, Sakura hadn't cared. Sasuke had gone in only boxers – another thrilling experience – and had even teased Naruto for retaining a shirt like a shy ninny. Naruto had taken the abuse quietly, which had stuck out as abnormal, though he _had_ gotten his revenge later when Sasuke had turned as red as a crab. Years later, Sakura had put two and two together and realised Naruto must have been hiding his seal.

She wished she didn't know, that this memory of Naruto and Sasuke acting like little boys together could remain untainted with secrets.

Still, it was one of her most cherished memories. She would never forget the look on Sasuke's face the one and only time they had managed to dunk him in the water. He'd come up spluttering, expression so pompously indignant that she'd had to laugh. At that time, she never would have said so, but he'd looked _exactly_ like her neighbour's cat after it had gotten sprayed with water.

Kakashi-sensei had tagged along that day, ostensibly to oversee the training they were supposed to be doing, but they'd basically ignored him in favour of silly sand sculptures and wave-hopping. Besides, he'd seemed happy enough to set his crutches aside to read in the warm sand. To the twelve-year old Sakura's great relief, he'd been fully clothed. The now-Sakura remembered thinking she'd die of mortification if she ever glimpsed him without his shirt. (He was _old_!) How times had changed.

She glanced at him now. Outwardly, he looked almost exactly the same as he had then, except for the bit of crow's feet at the corner of his one visible eye – but still, there was something different about him, just as with them all. It had been a long time. Even the beach was different; Kakashi's grey hair and dull, earth-tone clothing seemed to blend in with the muted atmosphere. It was winter now, and the water's clear blue had turned steely grey, the glittering sand washed-out white instead of the happy yellow of her memory. The once proudly-standing dune-fences were now winding and uneven; they sagged like Kakashi's posture, morbidly reminding her of the ribs of a corpse after she'd been at them with a rib-spreader.

There was a gentle knock to her arm. Naruto was trying to hand her the can. "Your turn."

Sakura dipped her fingers into the open container and then stared, overcome with the surreal sensation that the hand paused shakily over this make-shift urn couldn't possibly belong to her. Since when did her knuckles get so big and chapped? Where did all those tiny white lines come from? She couldn't possibly have that many scars.

She dug into the ashes, cupping them in her scarred, chapped hands after she passed the can to Sai.

"I think you're supposed to let them go now, Sakura. Or have I missed the part where you have to play with them first?" Kakashi quipped in an attempt to be droll. No one laughed. He hadn't even convinced himself.

She knew what she was _supposed_ to do with them, but the best she could manage at the moment was to stare at this clump of greyish stuff in disbelief. How had it come to this?

Noticing that Sai had passed the can wordlessly to Yamato, who passed it just as silently to Kakashi, Sakura spoke up. "That's not how it works. You have to do it too."

Yamato tweaked his thin lips crookedly. "It's not our place, Sakura."

She frowned into her handful of dust. "No less than ours...."

Timidly, Sai placed an awkward hand on her shoulder. "It's enough just to be here."

She glared at them in frustration, but all annoyance washed away with the outgoing tide as she caught sight of Kakashi. He was holding the can as if he might break it, staring down with wide, terrified eyes. She broke their little unconventional processional to go to him.

"You're supposed to take some," she whispered, standing in front him uncertainly. "Or did I miss the part where the ashes leap magically into your hands?"

The can trembled in his grip.

Carefully, she transferred the ashes still cupped in her hands back into the container. "Let's start over," she said quietly. She took one of his hands in hers and pulled both to the ashes. "Together." Finally, he nodded and she heard the slight squeak of grains crushing together as he grasped them. She followed suit, then set the can on the ground.

She took his left hand in her right. They extended their ash-holding hands and Sakura watched as some particles leaked from her grip. Somehow, it was easier to let go when she didn't have to begin for herself. She relaxed her hand; Kakashi mirrored her.

She leaned down to pick up the can, surprised but unperturbed when Kakashi didn't let go of her fingers. She led him to Naruto, handing over the ashes. "You do the rest."

Naruto nodded, gravely accepting the battered old can they'd chosen for this sombre occasion. He stepped out in front of them, closer to the water.

"He was happy here," she said. "Here, he's remembered only as a good ninja. That's how it should be."

Kakashi only nodded.

Just like her memory of Team Seven's excursion to this beach stood out from the mush of her past, Naruto's bright orange and cheerful yellow stood out dramatically against this grey-scale beach. Sakura found it oddly appropriate. She squeezed Kakashi's hand as they watched Naruto offer the rest of the remains to the winds. Kakashi squeezed back.


End file.
